Aphelion
by ambiguously
Summary: Stranded on a barren planet together, Rey and Kylo Ren have only each other to help them survive.
Written for Irusu in the Maythe4thBeWithYou Star Wars Fanwork Exchange

* * *

How this planet has an atmosphere is anyone's guess. What little plant life Rey's seen appears halfway dead and not at all conducive to a thriving biosphere. She's already slain two animals, more insect than anything else and more carapace than meat. She doesn't know if they feed on the sickly plants, on each other, or on some unknown source of food she needs to track down before she's out of rations packets.

None of this will solve her other problems.

"If you surrender, I promise not to kill you." His voice echoes slightly in the narrow, rocky valley. She can hide between boulders and inside cracks, shrinking herself within the smallest cave. Survival isn't merely finding shelter and looking for a means to repair her crashed ship. It's avoiding the lightsaber and cold black mask of the pilot of the ship hers crashed into, forcing them both to ground here.

To be honest, Rey gives herself about even odds of defeating him a second time in battle. Her training with Luke has gone much better than she ever dreamed. Kylo Ren is better practiced than she, and he isn't injured this time. She might win. She might not.

She hides, dropping safely behind the mental shields Luke helped her build up. Ren might seek her out, but he can't find her here.

"I don't have to be your enemy. You and I can find common ground. We can work together. If we join our powers, no one will be able to stand against us. You know this."

She can feel the pressure of his Force commands inside his words. She can feel the confusion behind them, the intrigued obsession he's had ever since they first met. She might defeat him, because he doesn't want to kill her. He does want to control her.

Rey sinks deeper into her current hiding place and thinks about how she's going to get her next meal.

* * *

The planet has three moons. There's only an hour of darkness between them, when the palest, smallest moon sits close to the horizon. She's safe then.

Rey emerges from her shelter. She casts out quick feelers, looking for her pursuer's current whereabouts, seeking the thrumming heartbeat of the insects. He's slumbering amid fitful dreams, sitting in an uncomfortable ball in the ruins of his ship's cockpit. If she wants him dead, now is her chance, but she's hungry and she's tired. Instead she goes hunting, and discovers, thank goodness, a small spring of fresh water on the valley's floor. Her parched mouth drinks deep until her belly cramps. There are no fish, but she finds a small lizard, and giving the animal her standard apology for ending its life, Rey kills it swiftly and uses the heat of her lightsaber to char the scant meat.

Lizard isn't bad. It tastes better than insect.

The water has filled her more than the meal. She lets herself have one bite of her rations for the nutrients, and stores the rest away in her pack. She's got a distress signal beeping its lonely wail towards the stars. She has no doubt Ren does, too. The First Order will come for him, or the Resistance will come for her, and whoever comes second loses because the other will surely take the valuable prisoner on offer. Their only chance they both have is if the _Millennium Falcon_ is the first to hear either call. Chewbacca has his own issues with Ren, but taking him captive won't be on his agenda.

In the night, she tinkers on her broken ship, knowing the work is futile. She doesn't have the parts. If she scavenges pieces from Ren's ship without his finding out or killing her, there's a chance she can cobble together something that will fly, and if she grows a tail, she can swing through trees. Both outcomes are as likely.

She's got until the second moon rises, longer if she listens to Ren's dreams with half her mind while her chilly fingers work on stripping wires. She can't see into his mind, not without risking her own. She feels murky images and old fears, nothing more.

The second moon creeps over the horizon, casting a sickly yellow hue over the barren landscape. Her damaged ship throws a wretched shadow across the rocky expanse up here above the valley. If she'd crashed a little lower, she would have no hope of taking off again. Hope drives her now, although she knows it's a false hope. Someone must rescue her, friend or foe. Without parts, this ship will never fly again.

She works anyway.

Before the second moon has reached its zenith, the third and brightest begins to rise, sending spikes of sharp light everywhere, almost more intense than the star this world orbits. Three moons, two Jedi, and one planet so devoid of resources that no one bothers to fight over it. Rey isn't great with numbers but she can do that math.

She finishes tonight's work and shimmies out of the belly of her ship. He'll wake soon, reaching the end of another bad dream. Rey makes her way to the edge of the valley, listening more deeply now. What kind of monsters does the monster fear? Can she use that against him?

Delving into his mind is a bad idea. Giving him a channel back into hers is a bad idea.

Not paying attention to her footholds as she's descending is a much worse one. Her right foot slides out from underneath her, sending her hard against the edge of the valley and knocking her breath away. Rey grabs for purchase, grabs for a rock, scrabbles out with the Force.

She falls hard, hitting an outcrop ten meters down. The agony in her leg is short-lived due to the sudden pain of her temple hitting stone.

* * *

Rey wakes slowly, climbing into consciousness like she's ascending a slippery dune. Her head aches. Her leg is a dull roar of jangled pain. Daylight from the thin sun jabs into her eyes.

She remembers falling.

The terror of the air beneath her, the feel of gravity sucking her to her death, these relive themselves in a sudden rush of pure adrenaline. She sits up fast, bitter acid on her tongue, and she nearly swoons from dizziness.

A blanket falls away from her. She's not on the outcrop, she's up at the top again, in the lee of the second broken ship. There's a small, smoky fire burning scraps of dead plant.

"Good morning," says Kylo Ren.

She's going to die.

Rey instantly cringes back from him, desperate for the lightsaber which is no longer clipped to her side. The movement jars her leg, sending shooting darts of white-hot pain through her body.

He doesn't move. He's sitting about two meters away, hands resting on his knees. His mask, a little different from the last one but not much, watches her impassively. She doesn't feel his gruesome touch inside her head. He's not making any kind of threatening gesture or word.

"Why am I alive?" she asks, wondering how far she can run with a broken leg, wondering if she tries if he'll merely behead her or if she'll feel the crush of his body on hers as he chokes the life from her.

"You fell. I heard you scream. Your leg is broken in one place, and may have a fracture in a second. I can't do anything about the concussion while your mental shields are up."

She reaches under the blanket and feels the splint tied around her leg, securing the bones into place. Her eyes focus. This isn't a blanket. It's his cape. Disgusted, she pushes the black material aside.

He heard her scream and didn't kill her when he found her unconscious. He brought her up here and bound her leg. Her clothes haven't been adjusted past what was necessary to deal with the break. He still hasn't moved towards her since she woke.

"Are you hungry?" He stands now, and he's incredibly tall when she's stuck here on the ground. Fear moves her again as he walks past her to his ship. He tosses a rations pack at her. "Here."

Her fingers wrap around the package. First Order meals are even less appealing than her own. "I had a knapsack."

"It fell. Did you have food?"

"Some."

"I'll retrieve it later, then. We can combine our stores." Maybe he just wants her supplies before he kills her. Maybe she doesn't have a choice.

"There's fresh water down at the bottom. I found a spring last night."

His body language changes, and she hears the relief in his voice. "Then I will go now. My water supply is exhausted." He tilts his head. "Stay put. If you try to walk, you'll damage yourself further."

"Where's my lightsaber?"

"It's mine," he says too quickly. "It was always supposed to be mine. I've put it away for safe keeping."

He says nothing more before carefully climbing down over the edge of the cliff into the deep valley below them.

Rey is alone.

There are only so many places he could have hidden her lightsaber. It's either on him or on his ship. If she has her weapon, she has a chance.

Her bones grind as she tries to hitch herself upright. She can't put weight on the leg without nearly blacking out in pain, and she can't hop without jarring the wound. Even standing is difficult. Her head isn't right. There's a small bacta patch on her temple, but it covers a huge knot of swollen skin. She'll need a brain scan. She'll need care.

She drags herself up against the ship. He left her here beside his vessel, and the strength in her arms is nearly enough to pull herself along to the hatch. She gets a good look at the climb, knows it's beyond her, and collapses back down to the ground. She can't see her lightsaber, doesn't know where to cast out her powers. She could draw it to her if she knew.

She falls asleep.

Rey wakes to a rough hand shaking her shoulder. "I told you to stay put."

"Tired of waiting," she says groggily. He grabs her under her shoulder and brings her back close to the fire.

"That was stupid. You've probably jostled your injury." Without asking, his hands begin assessing her, prodding at the splint. "I'll have to remove this."

She doesn't have any say as he unstraps the bonds he's placed over the thin strips of plexisteel surrounding her leg. More nerves scream as he removes the last piece. The bone hasn't broken through the skin, but everything is a horrid shade of purple and brown and red. More pain makes itself known as Ren prods her. She's been wearing the same long trousers as the other Resistance pilots these past few months. He must have ripped the leg of this one before he worked on her while she was unconscious. The fabric is torn away almost to her thigh. Ren peels off his gloves before he probes his way from her knee down to her ankle, taking note of her every hiss and squirm. His mask gives away nothing.

"This will hurt," is her only warning before he pokes her hard, pressing at the break. Rey bites back her scream. She feels a peculiar warmth at the spot. He's manipulating the bone back into place with the Force as she claws at the hard ground. "There."

She can hold the splints in place as he rewraps the break. The injury is swelling more. He goes into the ship and comes back out, not with her lightsaber, but with the medkit. "Hold still." She doesn't recognize the medicine. Suspicion blooms again. "Painkiller, antibiotic, anti-inflammatory," he says with an annoyed sigh. "First Order special. This gets a soldier back on his or her feet."

"Thank you," she says, gritting the words out as he presses the spray into her arm. The painkiller is good, at least, gently easing away the worst of the ache. She can't see his face to read if he's pleased with his work, or if he's studying her, or anything. "Why do you keep your mask on? "

"It reminds me of who I am." He stands and takes the medkit back into the ship.

Rey sits. There's little else she can do. "I know who you are."

"Do you?" Before they can argue, he returns to where he's placed her pack and a full container of water. He brings both to where she can reach them. "Between us, we have enough food for five days, six if we skimp. I can climb down for more water."

Five days. Ten if one of them is dead. "There's game. I've caught a few of the insects, the ones the size of your hand. I found a lizard down by the spring."

"You won't be hunting now."

"No." Five days together, ten alone. She can't climb down for water, either. "Why am I alive? If you wanted my supplies, you have them."

"I didn't want your supplies."

He wants her. There's a dull terror in her stomach. She doesn't know if he wants to use her body for his pleasure, or seize her powers to enhance his own, or turn her soul into the same black shard that's left of his. Rey doesn't know. She's frightened, too frightened to ask, unable to fight except with the core of her own Force abilities. Hers appear to be stronger than his innate abilities, but he's far more adept at their use.

"I'm your prisoner."

"Yes."

"Do you think the First Order will find us first?"

"I hope so. If not, I can use your safety to secure passage with the Resistance. They won't want you harmed." It's simple, it's direct, it's a wise course of action.

He's lying, to himself or to her or to both. She doesn't know how she can tell, but she's sure.

* * *

He returns to the spring under her advice, gathering water in another container and searching for lizards or any other life he can find. Rey naps while he's gone, too weak to go searching for her own weapon. Her life is in his hands.

Her first day here, she tried reaching out with the Force to touch the mind of her teacher, of her friends. She tries again now, opening her mind to the power she's always felt and never understood, seeking out the brush of a familiar mind, sending out a different distress call than the one beeping inside her ship.

"Please. Find me."

She wakes to the smell of roasting meat. She focuses on the low angle of the star sailing towards the horizon, and the makeshift spit Ren has put over his pitiful fire. Lizard again. He caught five, and turns them slowly over the fire. His mask is off, sitting on the ground beside him. She can see the scar across his face, twisting as his eyes are closed in focus.

Now that she knows what to look for, she can see his family in his face, the awkward blend of features. Her own features remain a mystery to her, not giving up the secrets of her past. He wears the truth of himself and hides behind his silly mask. She has only guesses.

He notices her stare, eyes opening. His hand drops to his mask, as if he's about to don it again, then she sees him shrug, very slightly. "Dinner will be ready soon."

"It smells better than when I made it. When did you learn to cook?"

"A long time ago." He doesn't elaborate. She wonders if this was something Luke taught him back at the school, back before everything went wrong, back before he was a murderer. The murderer is checking the meat now, and passes her two roasted lizards skewered on a stick, keeping the other three for himself.

These are plumper than the one she caught, and the hot fat burns her fingers and mouth as she bites around the delicate bones. "It's good. Thanks."

He nods. He chews his own food with a slow thoughtfulness, possibly to make the meal last. Rey spits the bones out, and after a moment, so does he, and they make the game a competition, seeing who can reach the furthest. He cheats, using the Force to loft a thigh bone ten meters, but she doesn't mind. As the sun sets, she's colder, and she manages to scoot herself closer to the fire. He tosses the cloak to her again.

"I don't want it."

"I can't bring you into my ship, and you need more shelter from the night."

She's thought about this. "My ship has an easier hatch to reach, but it's half a kilometer from here." She brings the cloak up over her legs. The ground is cold. "I might be able to get my ship back in the air if I can use parts from yours."

"Or we could repair my ship with parts from your ship. I've had a look around while you were sleeping." She isn't surprised, merely disappointed. Yes, they can probably make his ship spaceworthy if they salvage from hers, but as he said, she can't climb into his ship. They can repair his and leave her here to die.

"Do you know about repair work?"

"Enough." He moves her closer to the fire and gives her another shot to fight the pain that's been growing. "I'm going to sleep inside my ship. If you need something, shout or use your powers to contact me."

"Good night," she says automatically, and watches him climb up into the cockpit, closing the hatch behind himself. She's alone, not quite warm, but alive. She can't drag herself to her ship, can't escape to any kind of safety. She is his prisoner, here in the dark before the first moon.

Rey sleeps.

* * *

In the morning, they split a rations pack between them, conserving the rest and filling up with more water. Ren checks her injuries. The knot on her head has gone down. Even the swelling in her leg, painful last night, has stopped stretching her skin. She's better. He's pleased.

"We should try to fix one of the ships," she says. "If no one hears our distress beacons, we're stuck here." There's only one choice that ends with her still alive. "Mine's in better shape."

"I don't think so."

"Can we at least compare them before we start stripping parts?"

"Are you going to walk to yours?"

"I was thinking about that. You know where my ship is, and so do I. Between us, we can move it here with the Force, and set them side by side. No matter which ship we pick, repairs will be easier together."

He watches her over folded hands. "You're not strong enough."

Angry words sputter to her lips. "I have at least as much power as you do! We've proven that."

"You might and you might not. Either way, you're too weak. Your injuries are taking up most of your energy. You haven't noticed because you've been asleep and not moving except for that stupid attempt at searching my ship. You are not strong enough to move a ship, and if you try, you'll put yourself into a coma."

She wants to argue more, but he has a point. He might have enough Force energy to lift her from a stone outcrop, but she doesn't have enough to lift a small rock right now. "Then what do you suggest?"

"I can move the ship. It's a good idea." He doesn't seem pleased that she thought of it. He likes to be the one in control, the one who thinks of the plans and carries them out. She places that thought away, wondering if she can use the revelation against him later.

Without her help, he has to move the wreck in stages. He walks to her ship, lifting the vessel and bringing it with him for several meters before placing it down again. She's worried he'll drop it, watching the small figure in the distance. If he breaks her ship by accident or on purpose, they'll have no choice but to use his. She supposes he can lift her with the Force into his smaller ship if he intends to keep her as his prisoner, but the space is cramped. She won't fit well. The life support may not function to keep both alive.

Her ship lands safely, at last, placed down delicately beside his.

"You're good."

"I know," he says, and enters her ship with a smirk. The one nice thing about his helmet is that it disguised the prickly smugness.

She can hear him rattling around in there. Against her better judgement, she touches his mind. "What do you see?"

She feels the mild shock in his thoughts, wonderment she is willing to speak to him this way. He recovers. "You've started repairs."

"Some. I think mine is salvageable."

He doesn't reply for a long time. She won't poke his brain again. Finally, she hears him think, "Yours is better. We'll take the parts from mine."

Relief floods her, and a touch of gratitude. He could just as easily have said the other. Not only has he saved her life once, he's going to keep her alive when they escape.

He comes down the hatch to see her trying to stand. "You can't keep doing that."

"I can't repair the ship from here."

"No." She feels warm hands made of air lifting her. He's weaker now, sapped of the majority of his strength by the effort to bring her ship closer. He doesn't drop her, though, carefully floating her into the safety of her own ship. He sets her down, and finally he sits down hard on the floor beside her. He's pale from all the exertion today.

"I can work from here. Thanks." She takes his hand, giving him a quick squeeze. He startles again, staring at her and at where she's touching him. But he doesn't pull away.

* * *

They fight over the repairs, naturally. "You can't plumb in the line without the ground."

"It doesn't need the ground," she snaps back. "I worked on a model like this, and it grounds naturally to the hull."

"Which is wonderful if you intend to be electrocuted."

He installs a manifold backwards and refuses to bring his transmitter over.

Rey says, "Mine was damaged in the crash. I can send a beacon but I can't receive."

"No."

* * *

Dinner is more ration packs. He eats a whole pack himself, starving after the work of the day. Rey wants to gulp one herself and has to force the pack away half-consumed. When they get off this planet, if this works, they'll be in space for days and the rations are their only food source.

Rey is more comfortable and less exposed inside her ship. There's a bunk she can make her way into, and room to stretch out. "You could sleep in here," she tells him. "We'll be warmer with both of us inside, and you're getting cramps from sleeping all rolled up."

He considers arguing with her, she can see on his face, again annoyed by her having been the one to make the obvious suggestion. "Fine."

They split the thin blankets, his for the floor, hers to cover her. "Wouldn't you sleep better without all the armor?"

He removes several pieces, enough for her to see how complex his personal uniform is. She can't imagine having all that constricting her, but it explains why he hasn't been cold. She minds having borrowed his cloak less now.

In the night, she listens to him breathing. He doesn't settle to sleep immediately, and her evening dose of medicine hasn't kicked in yet to send her off. It's weird, and quiet, and they're both awake.

"Why didn't you kill me?"

He lets out a snort of air. "This again?"

"You shot my ship down. You've tried to kill me before. I'm wounded and I've been completely under your power for the last two days. I should be dead."

"First, you shot my ship before I shot yours. Second, I already told you that you're useful as a prisoner. What else is there?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't keep asking."

He rolls over in the dark. She can't see him. "I didn't want to be alone. I'm not good company, as you've noticed. If you're alive, I have someone else to talk to."

He says nothing more and she hears his breathing even out. The bad dreams are coming back.

* * *

Repairs go better the next day. He climbs down for more water and catches two lizards while he's there. It's a slim breakfast, which they stretch out with the other half of Rey's dinner from last night. Her body would recover faster with better food, and more, but they can't spare the rest. She doesn't have to move much, relying on him to retrieve piece after piece from his own abandoned ship. The work would go better if she could be there, but they manage.

Towards the end of the day, he comes back with a thoughtful expression. "What is it?"

"I just picked up a transmission from the First Order. They can't hear my beacon but they're moving into this sector to search. They'll be close enough to hear us by tomorrow at the latest." He sets down the last piece he retrieved.

Her ship might be ready by then. He'll want to reach his rescuers if it is, and he'll signal them here if it's not.

"Do you want to continue the repair, or do you want to wait?" The ship doesn't matter now. The First Order is coming for them. Rey will be dragged away in chains. The best she can hope for is imprisonment, but she doesn't have hope for the best. The First Order has other torturers on staff besides Kylo Ren.

"We'll work," he says. "The signal may not get through."

Rey doesn't hope for much now. She does the install of the next two pieces before tiring. He celebrates with another full rations pack. She doesn't have the stomach even for part of one.

"You need to eat," he says sharply, when he realizes she's not joking. "Your body needs fuel to heal."

"Heal why? I'm your prisoner. We both know that. As soon as you're back with the Order, you'll turn me over. I'll be interrogated and executed."

"You expected the same for me if the Resistance got to us first."

"The Resistance doesn't execute people. Your mother won't stand for that." It's the first time she's said anything about his family.

His mouth moves, whispering words he doesn't want to say out loud before he finally mutters, "You don't understand anything."

He leaves, going out and probably back to his own ship. He left his food and all their rations in here with her, so he'll be sulking and hungry. Rey doesn't care. She's the one who's going to die within a day of their so-called rescue.

* * *

She hasn't had her medicine tonight. Ren keeps the kit on the other ship, and he hasn't come back to dose her again. She rolls restlessly on the bunk, her leg throbbing uncomfortably. The painkillers make her sleepy, which she could use instead of twitching here, thinking out any possible escape.

In the middle of the night, as the first pale moon is overhead alone, she hears him come into her ship. He could kill her now, but he won't. That will be for far more skilled hands, deconstructing her flesh over days as they extract the little intel she has.

"You're awake."

There's no use pretending otherwise. "Yes."

"I needed some time alone."

She pictures this. "Did you break your ship?"

His silence gives her enough of an answer. "You don't have to be killed," he says, in the worst sales pitch ever. "You could join us."

"No."

"You have to see we're more powerful than the Resistance could ever hope to be, now that the Republic is gone. We're going to win. It would be a waste of your talents to choose the losing side."

"We've beaten you before. We'll keep fighting you. You're the one who's going to lose. You should come over to our side."

She wonders if he's thinking about the offer. She can't see him, but she hears the sound of his armor coming off, hears his contortions as he gets comfortable on the floor.

"There's room," she says after a long, long time. "It's softer on the bunk, and we'll both fit."

He's silent again. Ren's silences are scarier than his rants, because they mean he's thinking. Without a word, she hears him rising from the floor, bringing the second blanket with him. He sits next to her on the bunk, arranging his long limbs so as not to jostle her, and throwing the extra blanket over them both. For the first time since she crashed here, Rey feels warm. Her leg aches but the rest of her is cozy, comforted by the faint puffs of his breath on her hair.

She startles when he touches her, but it's only the movement of his arm on top of the blanket, settling over her almost in an embrace.

"Get some rest." His voice is low against her.

She falls asleep listening to his breath and the steady thrum of his heart.

* * *

Rey wakes alone in the bunk. With some work and using a piece she dismantled yesterday as a crutch, she manages to get to her own cockpit. Outside the viewscreen, she sees Ren climbing back over the edge of the cliff to the valley, another load of water with him. He's been carrying these containers up the steep bank for days, enough water for them both.

She's not sure how she feels about that, now that her mind is clear of her medicine. Of the many tasks he's taken on to keep her alive, the water has to be the most physically demanding, even more so than moving her ship was.

He said it's because he doesn't want to be alone. That's true enough and she believes his words are nearly the full truth.

"Breakfast," he says coming into her ship with the water. No lizards today. They can eat their rations and by tonight, they'll be on a real ship with real food.

"If we finish the exhaust system, we can transfer the fuel and be ready to fly." She sees him hesitate before taking another bite. "What?"

"Another transmission. They heard me, and I transmitted our coordinates."

She sets down the packet. "Oh." They won't need her ship. They'll only need her.

He stands. "You need two more pieces for the exhaust, right?"

She nods, wondering what the other inquisitors are like, if they can also rip into her mind the way he did when they met. The way he hasn't since they've been trapped together here.

"I'll be back."

Twenty minutes later and puffing with the weight, he brings in both pieces. "Can you reach these without my help?"

She tests her crutch. "I think so."

"Good. I'll get the fuel."

She's afraid to ask him why they're doing this, why the rush. The First Order scouts will reach him soon and rescue him. But she has the parts and she has the knowledge. Rey installs them quickly, ignoring the ache as she stands on a leg that only reluctantly takes her weight. By the time the last piece is bolted in, Ren is back with the fuel, loading it with a practiced hand.

They're finished within an hour, the ship stocked and ready for no good reason save the accomplishment.

"We did it," she says, checking the systems. They have a usable ship, and they have supplies to last for a few days. It's enough to get them to a hyperlane that will lead them somewhere less forsaken. The hyperdrive is fine.

He looks around. "Good for us." He smiles at her, and it's strange, like seeing muscles he doesn't use often. Even with the scar, he's not completely horrible when he smiles. He helps her up. "I'll help you outside."

"I could stay here. I could hide."

"And I'll tell them you're dead? They'll scan the area before they land. I already thought of that." He takes her arm over his shoulder. "Come on. I could carry you if you'd like."

He's warm against her, helping her out of the hatch. He's helped her survive this, helped her eat and drink, helped her heal. This from a man she's certain would have shot her out of the sky, would have run her through with his lightsaber.

They hobble together back to the spot in the lee of his broken ship. Ren helps her to the ground. She can be comfortable while she waits for her executioners. He holds her hands as she settles, stretching her leg out. "You'll need that looked at," he says. "We can't have a proper duel until you're back on two good legs."

Rey shrugs. There's no point. Had he killed her as soon as she was injured, she'd have joined the Force like Master Luke said they all will. Instead she is facing torture and death, and he's here nattering about her leg.

"Why didn't you kill me?"

He closes his eyes. She expects another deflection, expects a near-truth. She does not expect him to pull her mouth against his. His lips are quick and fumbling, the kind of kiss that says the other party hasn't done much kissing. She can feel the flustered emotions behind his cracking mental shields. It's not love, not the way she's ever considered love, but she doesn't know what other name to place on what she's feeling from him. She has no name whatsoever for the twirled emotion inside her own mind.

Ren strokes her face. "I can't go back with you. You can't come with me." He kisses her again and this time she parts her mouth. Her ears ring and her heart hammers and this was not at all how she expected this day to go.

He touches their heads together. "The next time we meet, we'll be enemies."

Before she can ask what he means, what this means, he steps away from her, grabbing his mask from where he left it, and he walks on board her ship. Moments later, she hears the engines engage. She's safe where she sits, far enough from the engine not to feel more than a warm breeze as he lifts off.

"Wait!" she thinks at him. The ship zooms off and is gone.

Five minutes later, the _Falcon_ lands close to her position. Chewie's down the gangplank first, and Luke's close behind. She can't believe her eyes.

"Over here!" she shouts, and pushes the thought with her mind. Luke spots her instantly, and they hurry to her side.

"Thank goodness you're all right," he says, and Chewie scoops her up into his strong arms. "We got your signal."

"We have to hurry," she says. "The First Order is on its way. They'll be here any minute."

Chewie growls.

"What do you mean they're not?"

"We received your coordinates a few hours ago, and searched the whole system in case it was a trap," says Luke. "We're the only ones here."

He lied. He said the First Order contacted him. He took her ship and fled. She doesn't know what to feel. She doesn't know what to say. She only knows she's alive.

As they carry her back to the _Falcon_ , she stops them. "Search the other ship. I think my lightsaber is still in there."

Luke gives her a look but he goes to search. A few minutes later, he brings it to her. "He forgot it," she says, lighting the blade experimentally.

"Who else was here?" His eyes are kind. "And what happened to your ship?"

"Let's get aboard the _Falcon_. It's a long story." She won't tell them all of it. Some parts are her own to consider.

The next time they meet, they will have much to discuss.

* * *

end

Reviews welcome.


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